The Person Within
by slytherinsoul07
Summary: AU! Harry Potter, a new student at Hogwarts, is the stong, dark and mysterious type and everyone wants to know what it is he's hiding... including one Draco Malfoy
1. The Truth

**Summery** – AU: Harry Potter is the new transfer student from America – and everyone wants a piece of him. He's not only the strong and silent type, but there's just _something_ about him that makes everyone want to get to know him… including young Draco Malfoy.

**Warning** – THIS STORY WILL CONTAIN SLASH! THIS MEANS MALE ON MALE PAIRING! IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT – DON'T READ IT! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!

**Disclaimer** – I own nothing aside from the plot. I am making no money off of this in any way. Sue me and get nothing! (This applies for the entire story)

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There are so many lies out there in the world that the truth is just another one.

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**Chapter 1 – The Truth**

It all started with that damned prophecy. If only something else had happened, then maybe it could have been over sooner, but nooooo – that's not the way Murphy's Law works.

Maybe I should start at the beginning. You know the prophecy I'm talking about, right? The one about "the Dark Lord shall mark him as his equal… he shall have powers the Dark Lord knows not… neither can live while the other survives…" – sound familiar? Good; now this is what happened the night Voldemort found out about the prophecy…

Voldemort and Bellatrix Lestrange arrived at a house at number 38, Kendall Drive, and broke into it. Bellatrix proceeded to use the Cruticus Curse on both Alice and Frank Longbottom until they could handle it no longer; by the time the curse had been lifted, neither Longbottom was able to tell the difference between up and down. With a shrill laugh, Lestrange had then turned around to see how Voldemort would handle the smallest Longbottom, who was barely one year old.

Voldemort had lifted his wand arm and hissed, "Neville Longbottom, I mark you as my equal," and then Avada Kedavara-ed the boy. Let's just say that it was pretty anti-climatic…

Well, that was the end of _that_ prophecy.

Now, in a perfect world, someone would have showed up the second the prophecy had been fulfilled and would have taken care of Voldemort and be done with it – but this is anything but a perfect world. No, no one showed up until three and a half hours later – needless to say, both Bellatrix and Voldemort were long gone.

It took another 15 years or so to finally get rid of the monster that was killing off not only the wizarding world, but the muggle one as well. In fact, it was a man named Albus Dumbledore who actually finished Voldemort; he had somehow managed to burn the bastard into nothing more than a pile of ash. Unfortunately, the following night, at a party celebrating the end of the 'Dark Era,' the Headmaster was listening to a joke (something about a troll and a hag who go into a bar) when he choked on a muggle candy he was eating at the time (I believe that it's called a Lemon Drop), and he was dead before he hit the ground.

Now that's all fine and dandy, you say, but what does that have to do with me? Well, that prophecy could have been talking about two people: Neville Longbottom, or me. My parents had a pretty bad feeling at the time, so they packed up all of out things, and we moved to New York, New York (my mother's home town) the night before the Longbottoms were attacked. The ironic part, however, was that at the exact moment, or so I've been told, that the Longbottoms cracked, my Dad lost control of the rental car we were in, and ran off of the road, right into a McDonald's sign. The really weird part was when a toy of mine, that had a bunch of weather related shapes on it, flew out of my hands and hit me on the forehead. I have been told that the moment I was hit with the lightening bolt was the same moment that Neville died… kind of creepy. The best part? I now have a scar on my forehead to remind me of that night.

The car crash could have been avoided if my parents hadn't packed away their wands, but, unfortunately, their wands were somewhere between the cream of wheat and the baby wipes, and my parents didn't survive the crash.

I wish I could say that I miss them, but I really don't remember anything about them; the only real memory I have is of a bright green light, which I have a feeling was a stop light. I have never been told anything about my parents, just that I look exactly like my father and that I have my mother's eyes. One would think that if someone grew up with their aunt, uncle and cousin then they'd know _something_ about their parents, but no – my 'family' doesn't talk about those "freaks" who "got what the deserved."

You see, after the car crash, I was given to the only relatives I had left: the Dursleys. Petunia Dursley, my aunt, is my mother's sister, and she holds a … grudge, per say, against her; Aunt Petunia was royally pissed when she didn't receive an invitation to Hogwarts like her older sister – she just couldn't handle the fact that she was a squib. So what did she do? She turned her back on the wizarding world and married the worst muggle she could find.

Vernon Dursley – oh god – what did I do to deserve to grow up with _him_? Of all the people my aunt could have married, she chose him. Before my cousin or I, Vernon was a professional truck diver, working for a company called Grunnings. He would get up, drive the truck to some place on the other side of America, and then come home and get drunk. I would assume that Petunia thought that she wouldn't have to deal with him very much, seeing as how he would be gone for days at a time, but then, he got a job in the building.

Life went from bed to worse. Uncle Vernon was home more, which meant that he could get drunk more, which meant that he could yell at me more, which meant that he would end up doing so much more than that. God – all of the awful things my whale-of-a-cousin Dudley and horse-mouthed aunt have done to me cannot even begin to compare to what Vernon does when he's drunk and pissed. I had thought that going to Grebes Head Academy for Witches and Wizards would make things better, seeing as how I wouldn't be 'home' but for the summer holiday. How wrong I was.

Aunt Petunia used to stop Vernon whenever he would start to go too far, but when she saw the acceptance letter to Grebes Head, she let her grudge on my mom carry over to me. For the past six years, every summer since I've turned 11, she does nothing to prevent Vernon from doing as he wishes – sometimes she even stays in the room so she can call me a freak without me being able to leave.

Vernon Dursley's drunken tactics never seem to change; "boy!" he yells, which is the cue for me to drop whatever I'm doing and run to his side. He then starts to yell at me, telling me that I'm an ungrateful freak who should have died along with my good-for-nothing parents… then comes the fists; if I'm lucky, Vernon will have already put down the shot glass in his hand before he swings at me, but most likely not. The glass cuts my arms, chest, face, and the left over whiskey stings as it mixes with my blood. I have learned not to make any noises or he does it even longer. By the time he decides that he has had enough of the punching, he'll push me down onto the ground and will start to kick me. When he's done with that, depending on his mood, he'll pull down his pants and… oh god – I can't say it…

When he has relieved himself, he makes me clean up the 'mess I made.' I then crawl back to my room, or the cupboard under the stairs, depending on where he sends me, and then I down the pain relieving potions that I nicked from school, and collapse onto the bed before I cry myself to sleep.

Everyone at my school knows me – not because I'm some sort of hero… not because I'm popular… nor because I play any sort of sport. No, everyone knows me because I'm the geek with the glasses, the unruly hair, and the baggy clothes. I have no friends; I have no where else to go…

My whole world changed the summer before my 7th, and final, year at school…

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**(A/N):** I know that this chapter was really short, but this is basically just the background for the story. The next chapter will be up very soon! Please review – I really appreciate them! Thanks! 


	2. Broken Heart, Broken Dreams

"There are many ways of breaking a heart. Stories were full of hearts broken by love, but what really broke a heart was taking away its dream - whatever that dream might be." – Pearl Buck

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**Chapter 2 – Broken Heart, Broken Dreams**

It was July 23, the day on which Harry would return for his month-long 'summer vacation.' Stepping off the plane, Harry took a quick look around; there, standing as far away as possible from the people getting off of "Magical Airline" were the last three people he wanted to see. Well, at least they were here this year… last year he had to walk back to the house – thank god for invisibility cloaks and broomsticks. With a sigh, Harry pulled his trunk over to the three magic haters. Out of habit, he looked at Vernon's forehead to see if his vein was throbbing (never a good sign) but, luckily, he was just a purple-ish red color.

"Where's that bloody chicken of yours? I'm not making a trip back here because you forgot something." Uncle Vernon snapped. When Harry heard his words, his eyes started to involuntarily water; goddamn! How come he always knew how to do that? No – Harry hadn't forgotten Hedwig, his _owl_… someone thought that it would be amusing to see what would happen if you mixed live bait, a three headed dog (for some reason named "Fluffy") and the emotions of Harry Potter… well… Fluffy left happy…

Closing his eyes to stop the tears that were threatening to come out, Harry responded with, "No, Uncle Vernon – I haven't forgotten anything. Hedwig has… has… Hedwig dies a few weeks ago…"

"Not much of a loss, that one," Vernon said gleefully; what else could Harry expect him to say? Was he really hoping that Vernon would feel sorry! Blimey, he hated the bird, and he had made sure Harry knew it. "Well, let's go then. I don't have all day," his uncle said, already walking towards the car.

Harry sighed again and began to drag his trunk out to Vernon's black BMW. After a few minutes, Harry noticed that neither his aunt nor his cousin had ridiculed him yet – it wasn't like aunt Petunia to voluntarily give up the 'pleasure' of being able to bite Harry's head off. Well, maybe things would be better this summer…

Half an hour later, Harry was starting to get a little suspicious. Not only had Petunia kept her horse-like mouth closed, but Dudley hadn't even _tried_ to lay a punch on him. He didn't think Vernon had noticed anything, however, because he had spent the entire car ride back to Pivet Drive in a continuous rant, ranging from how useless Harry was, to the traffic, to how ungrateful Harry was, to how much of a bother it was to even keep Harry. By the time they had pulled into number 4, Vernon had worked himself into a 'right-state,' as Petunia called it – or at least _would_ have called it, had she still not been keeping her mouth shut.

That was they way they went through dinner, as well. Petunia refused to even twitch her lips, and, although he was still shoveling food down his throat, Dudley hadn't said anything either… and Harry was scared. There weren't many things that could actually scare him – but one of the few things that could was when his relatives acted a bit 'un-normal.' If there was one thing Harry had learned in his almost 17 years, it was that if anything out of the ordinary were to take place, then he would get blamed for it.

It was this terrifying thought that kept Harry on the alert. He was purposefully doing his best to stay out of everyone's way, especially the one of his uncle's. Harry let out a small sigh of relief when, while he was trying to fall asleep on his pallet in his 'room' (the cupboard under the stairs), he heard the front door open and close. The only time, at night at least, that door every opened was when his uncle was going out to get a drink or ten. At least he was safe for now – he most likely would have to pay for his uncle's drinking later, but for now he would be able to sleep.

* * *

It was dark. That was the first thing he noticed. It had to still be 'night-time' outside. That was when he heard it – there were heavy footsteps storming his way, and then there was the ever-faithful cry of "boy!" That was when his heart sank – **_nothing_** good ever came out of that cry.

Harry threw open the door to his cupboard, hoping that if he got to his uncle fast enough, then maybe he would be lucky enough to get away with just a sound beating and nothing… more. Harry ran into the living room and looked around, terrified of what he may find. When he finally spotted his uncle, he realized that something was terribly wrong – Vernon wasn't angry – he was pissed – and Harry had no idea what it was he was supposed to have done this time.

Harry found Vernon right before Vernon's fist connected with the side of his head. He had turned around slightly to find his uncle standing right behind him, with a bottle of scotch in his hands, and slightly unfocused eyes. Harry made the mistake of being shocked to find his uncle right behind him, and was unable to even try to block the fist that was swinging his way.

"You worthless piece of shit!" Vernon yelled, slightly slurring his words. "Look what you've done now!" As he yelled, Vernon continued to hit, kick and scratch every piece of Harry he could reach. with a particularly brutal punch to his forehead, Vernon's bottle of scotch broke, the glass making even more cuts on his already bleeding body, and the liquor was mixing with the blood, causing Harry to scream as the liquid began to create a burning and stinging sensation.

"THEY LEFT! YOU MADE THEM LEAVE! YOU FUCKING-WORTHLESS-PIECE-OF SCUM!" Vernon continued to rant. "Petunia took Dudley and left! Where did they go? Where did you send them? I know you did it – you used your freaky magic and made them leave! Make them come back! NOW!"

After a minute of trying to work out what it was Vernon was actually saying, around trying to defend his body, it dawned on Harry. It all made sense. Aunt Petunia hadn't said anything all day – but had been waiting for the right time to be able to leave. She had probably even been waiting for the day when Harry came back from school – aunt Petunia realized she had to get out, by any means, and she sacrificed Harry to do so.

"I – I didn't do anything!" Harry wheezed, trying to protect his ribs from the crushing weight of his uncle. At some point he had somehow managed to sit on top of Harry… Harry didn't even remember getting to the ground. "I'm not allowed to use magic out of school – I couldn't have sent them away," Harry insisted.

"Don't lie to me, boy!" Vernon yelled, standing up suddenly. "I don't like being lied to! I'll show you what happens to those who lie to me!" At that, Vernon yanked Harry up off of the ground and threw him half over the couch, but no before he had ripped off his pants.

"NO! Please… please don't…" Harry begged. "Please – I-I'll do anything! Just don't… please don't…," Harry ended, half crying half whispering. He realized, a moment too late, that he was lying, on his stomach, on the arm of the couch.

"SHUT UP, BOY!" Vernon yelled, removing his own trousers. In one swift movement, Vernon shoved himself into Harry – causing the boy to scream. "That's right, whore," Vernon panted, "scream for me!"

His uncle's words, along with the pain of the ripping of his skin, caused Harry to start to really cry. He had vowed that this wouldn't happen this summer. He felt sick. He felt contaminated. He felt violated. Why did his uncle do this to him? He could handle being hit, and he could handle being yelled at but this… this was horrible. Harry wanted nothing more than to have his uncle stop. Harry prayed with all of his heart that someone would save him; that someone would burst through the front door and take him away… but no one ever did. Harry had lost count the number of times he had wished that something like that would happen – he had given up hope. He knew, by now, that no one even cared that he existed, no to mention being abused…

Harry tried to ignore the feeling of Vernon behind him – he just hoped that it would be over soon – that Vernon would just finish… he was far beyond from caring at this point…

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On the other side of the world, two men were sitting at a desk, drinking tea, when one suddenly stood up.

"What is it, Serverus?" a man with a long, white beard asked, obviously confused. They had been discussing some new ideas they had for warding and protecting the students at their school… nothing had been said that should have caused the man to leap up like that.

"Albus – the amulet!" the man named Serverus said, breathlessly, as he pulled a round, bronze medallion out from under his shirt where he wore it. Both men quickly looked at the amulet in question, which was pulsing. On inspection, one could see that it was glowing a faint red color.

"You are certain this is it?" Albus asked, his eyebrows lifted in an uncharacteristic display of curiosity.

"Yes," Serverus replied, as his face took on an expression of hope. "I've waited for so long… we most go at once!" With that, the man named Serverus turned and ran over to the fireplace, threw in some floo powder, and shouted his destination impatiently, closely followed by Albus.

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**(A/N)**: Sooo… what do you think? I apologize for the long wait you guys have had – but I'm finally able to get back on the ball, as far as writing goes! I normally respond to each and every review I receive, so this one time I hope that you all will forgive me! I will say, however, that I was shocked at the number of responses I got for a first chapter! I really didn't expect this story to be that big of a success – so I was pleasantly surprised (note: that was the understatement of the year). Anyway – I will be updating again soon – A LOT sooner then this has been! Let me know what you think of my story! Thanks! 


	3. Lost Time

"Lost time is never found again." – Benjamin Franklin  
Chapter 3 – Lost Time

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After what had seemed like hours, uncle Vernon had spilled his seed inside of Harry, with a final hard, uncaring thrust. Now, Harry was lying down on his pallet, unable to do much more than pant and cry. Why wasn't he able to stop him? Why did he always hope that that wouldn't happen? Was he really that naïve? No – he was weak. That's what it all came down to; at school he was bullied, his cousin loved to play 'Harry Hunting,' and he was unable to stop his uncle from abusing him.

No longer. No longer would he just run to his uncle's side like an obedient lap dog. He wasn't going to deal with that shit anymore – he would be 17 in exactly one week (according to the clock that had rung midnight while his uncle had been relieving himself), and then he could legally use magic outside of school.

But he wasn't going to wait a-whole-nother week; if his aunt and his uncle could get out of there, then so could he. He was tired of being the shy, timid little boy – from now on, no matter what, he was going to change. As soon as he was certain that his uncle was asleep, Harry was going to leave. Where to? He didn't know – the only thing he was aware of was that he needed to get away – and fast.

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The man named Severus stepped out of the fireplace into a small building, the 7-11 on 18th street, New York, followed by the man called Albus.

"Come on, old man," snapped Severus Snape, "I don't have all night!"

"My apologies, Severus," replied Albus Dumbledore, in a calm, even voice. "I understand your urgency – had I been able to find my son again, I, too, would be in a hurry."

At Dumbledore's words, Snape regretted what he had said. Dumbledore's son, Albus Dumbledore Jr., was the one who had lost his life while sucking on a lemon drop, and Snape knew how much he missed him. "Do not apologize, Albus," Snape said, looking at the man with sorrow-filled eyes, "it is I who should be apologizing – that was very rude of me."

"It is a thing of the past! Now – Severus, I never imagined to find the boy in America, of all places! How did you know to come here?" asked Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling with joy for his friend.

Both men quickly left the 7-11, and were walking down the sidewalk again, before Snape answered. "It was the amulet. Do you recall it pulsing? Well," Snape continued at Dumbledore's nod, "it was giving me the information it knows. For example: due to our prior knowledge, you and I know that the boy will be 17 in one week, but that was out only information. I now know that he looks remarkably like James (that would be Lily's doing) yet he has his mother's eyes. I also know that his name is Harry, and he lives with his aunt, uncle, and cousin in a small townhouse, here in New York. In fact – his house should be… right… about… here!" Snape exclaimed – stopping in front of a house with a small front yard, one black BMW, and no lights on – it was #4 Pivet Drive.

Severus stood, looking at the house, momentarily frozen. Here, right in front of him, was the house in which his son lived. He had spent the better part of 16 years searching all over the United Kingdom, looking for his lost child – never imagining that he could be across seas – not even knowing if he was alive. Now – after all of this time, he was finally able to see him.

How much like James would he look like? How would he act? What would interest him? All of the questions that had crossed Severus' mind over the past 17 years came back to him, causing Severus to not know whether he had been standing on the porch for a few minutes, or for an hour. It was only when Albus' hand came to rest on his back that he came out of his haze. Without saying a word, Snape gave the old man a nod of thanks, and turned to knock on the door.

He would be able to see his son – that was the only thing that mattered.

He was not prepared for what happened when the door opened.

* * *

Harry had downed the last of the pain relieving potions he had; he had been unable to sneak many away this year, owing to the fact that his potions teacher, Professor Coleman, had finally noticed that he was missing boxes of it. Now, Harry was packing up what little possessions he had, and put them into his tattered school trunk. He had placed all of his second hand schoolbooks on top of his school robes (which carried a shield of his house – the Zambezi Sharks). Harry had thrown in his invisibility cloak, and a map he had – which was of someplace called 'Hogwarts.' Pocketing his wand and his small bag of wizarding money, Harry listened one last time for the sound of uncle Vernon; he let out a sigh of relief when he heard the loud, steady sounds of his snoring.

Harry quickly opened the door to his cupboard and made his way down the hall. With one last look around, Harry opened the front door, limping and wincing in the pain uncle Vernon had caused, and pulled his trunk out onto the front porch. Once both he and his trunk were outside, Harry turned back around and shut the front door.

Still looking at the door, Harry spoke. "Good-bye, fucker. Rot in Hell." With a look of disgust, Harry turned back around to find two men looking at him; one with a look of worry, and the other with one of hope.

* * *

Severus was shocked when, as he was raising his fist to knock, the front door had opened, and out stepped a person with a mop of unruly black hair. The person had then stepped out onto the porch, and, essentially, into the light. It was his son! Who else could look like a carbon copy of James Potter? After a moment, Snape realized that his son had paid no attention to the two men standing right behind him – in fact, it seemed as if he was ignoring everything around him, aside form the front door he was staring at.

Snape was about to say something – who knows what – when Harry spoke. "Good-bye, fucker. Rot in Hell." Those words startled Severus. Who was his son talking to? It was when Harry had turned back around that Severus got a clear view of his face. Harry was covered in cuts and bruises, some which were fading, and others which were obviously fresh. It was also clear that it pained him to walk, judging by the way Harry was grabbing his stomach and the way his legs were spread – as if he was unable to close them.

Both Severus and Albus were shaken out of their thoughts, which were both on the same wavelength, when Harry spoke again.

"Err… hello…" Harry said, obviously a bit confused as to why there were two grown men on his front porch, in the dead of night.

Albus Dumbledore, the man of quick recoveries, stepped forward and stuck out his right hand. "Hello there, dear boy. My name is Albus Dumbledore. Am I correct in my assumption that you are the young Harry Potter?"

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Dumbledore – yes, my name is Harry Potter," Harry paused, and shifted his gaze to Snape, before continuing. "How can I help you?"

Although Harry had spoken to Dumbledore again, it was Snape who answered. "Harry, my name is Severus Snape – and I have some… interesting new to share with you – but first, I must ask – are you alright?"

Even though Snape had asked as calmly as he could, he had been unable to sound anything less then incredibly anxious; which startled Harry. As long as he could remember, no one had ever asked him if he was alright… almost as if they cared. With those three words, Harry subconsciously felt more for the man standing in front of him, then anyone else he had ever met.

Harry gave a dry laugh and responded, "I've bee better." Even as Harry said it, his vision had begun to fade. Harry started to sway on the spot, before he blacked out… right into Severus' arms.

* * *

When he came back around, Harry vaguely noticed that he was comfy – for once; and warm – his cupboard was always freezing. Add these oddities to the confusing dream he had had… (something about two men… one with a long white beard, and one with shoulder-length black hair…) and Harry was getting a headache… correction: he was getting a bigger headache – owing to the fact that he already had a migraine.

With a groan, Harry turned his head to the side and muttered "damn you, Vernon…" After a moment, Harry realized that there were voices surrounding him – did Vernon have company? Figuring that Vernon would want him to cook something, Harry decided to try to get up; it was then that he actually made out some of the words that were being said.

"…you can't be serious!"

"-re you sure? It can't be!"

"RAPE!"

"me you didn't! Please Severus – tell me!"

"SHUT UP! YOU'RE GOING TO WAKE HIM!"

Harry opened one eye wearily to see the same man from his dream giving a room full of people a death glare that could freeze hell.

"I will NOT have you bothering him! I believe that Dumbledore told you everything of importance – now, if you'll be so kind… GET THE HELL OUT! **NOW!** At Severus' word, everyone, excluding Harry and himself, got up quickly and left the room. Harry sat up, cautiously, and looked around – not sure of where he was…

Severus gave a weary sigh, and turned around to look at the boy in question, to find him looking right at him.

Harry and Severus simply stared at each other for a moment, each for their own purposes. Harry – trying to figure out where the hell he was, and Severus – basking in the glow that was his soon. After a few minutes, Severus cleared his throat.

"I see you're awake. How are you feeling?"

Harry, reliving his joy of the last time he had heard those words, suddenly realized that he hadn't been dreaming – those men were real. Thinking quickly, Harry decided to stick with the truth, because the man – Severus – seemed genuinely concerned. "Much better… I still have a pounding headache, by my ribs and legs feel better…" Harry trailed off, suddenly self-conscious. How much did this man know? How much could he tell him? Harry's worries must have been on display, because Severus answered his unasked questions.

"Harry, I'm going to be blunt – and terribly honest. You and I have many thing to discuss, but what your uncle has done to you is my top priority. Last night, when Dumbledore and I showed up at your house, you feinted – do you remember?" Harry gave a quick nod – almost glad to be having this conversation with someone, even if it was with a man he had just met. "Well – after that, I took you inside your house, hoping to have a discussion with your uncle." As he said that, a dark look crossed over Severus' face. "I found him in his bed, sleeping. When I woke him – with some… persuasion – he was quite startled. For… security purposes, Albus and I gave him Veritisum and had him explain your injuries." At this point, Severus was looking directly into Harry's eyes. "I also had him tell us how long he had been abusing you… I must say, when I heard, I got a bit carried away… I hexed him with a Re-occurring Pain Curse… I have had him experience everything he has done to you…" Severus trailed off, not exactly knowing what to say now – it wasn't exactly a normal occurrence for him to be sitting on a bed, next to a young man who had been raped for six years, and to comfort him.

Harry, as well, wasn't sure what to say. That part of him that still wanted to be the timid and shy boy he had always been, was crying out to say that he was terrified, while his new, won't-take-any-crap, side wanted to say that it was no big deal – that he was over it. Not exactly sure what he was going to come out, Harry opened his mouth to reply.

"Mr. Snape – I'm still not sure why you were at my house last night, but I'm glad you were. I was, as I'm sure you've figured out, running away. I'm not 17 yet, or else I would have cursed uncle Vernon into obliviation myself, but I'm thankful that, at least, you did. I'm not saying that I'm not still upset about what has been happening, but last night I vowed that I would take matters into my own hands – that Vernon would never again even _think_ of touching… I'm not sure whom, exactly, you are, and this may sound crazy, but I can't help but trust you. All I know is that I'm glad you showed up last night… and, for some reason, I wouldn't have wanted anyone else there…" Harry trailed off this time, not sure how this Severus Snape person would take everything he had just said.

"Harry, I think it's time for me to tell you the reason I was at your house last night," Snape said, with what looked like a hesitant smile. "Harry… what do you know about your parents?"

At Snape's question, Harry's heart skipped a beat. Did Snape know who his parents had been? "Well, sir, I know that my mother was born in New York, New York, but, when she was accepted to a magic school, she moved to England. I also know that she met my father at the school she went to, and that they had me a few years after graduating. I was told that my parents moved to America when I was one, to avoid being killed by Voldemort, yet they ended up in a car crash, which took their lives… I have also bee told that I look just like my father, yet I have my mother's eyes… please, sir, why do you ask?"

Snape gave Harry a small smile. "Well, Harry, I asked because I needed to know what it was that you'd been told – you see, there were actually only four people who know the truth about your parents… Lily Evans, James Potter, Albus Dumbledore, and myself…" Snape paused for a minute, trying to decide where to start. "I guess I should begin with the telling of your mother……… she was a remarkable person. You are right in saying that you have her eyes, yet she had fiery red hair, which had nothing on her fiery soul. She was truly amazing – she refused to judge anyone, and was always willing to lend a hand – no matter what. I suppose it was that which drew people to her – including myself. Sometime between our 6th and 7th year at Hogwarts, that 'magic school' she was accepted to, I fell in love with her.

"Right before our graduation, I confronted her with my feelings, and, instead of answering, she kissed me…" Snape paused again, yet this time, he was reminiscing. "Well… over the next few years, she and I spent a lot of time together… in fact, so much time, Lord Voldemort was getting suspicious – you see," Snape explained, at Harry's confused look, "I was a spy for the light. Voldemort didn't want any of his 'followers' to be seen with 'mudbloods,' like you mother. I had just been informed, by another spy, that Voldemort had heard of your mother's and my relationship, when your mother told me that she was pregnant – with my child…" Snape's face lit up when he said that – so much so that Harry was wondering how much this man normally smiled.

"In order to protect our child, and my role as a spy, Lily accepted an offer made by a close friend – she would place charms on our child, altering his appearance to those of her friend, making it seem that she had conceived the child with him rather than me. She then decided that they would go into hiding somewhere – yet she would not let me be secret keeper – 'for your own safety' she had told me… she then gave me this amulet," Severus said, as he reached into his shirt and pulled out the bronze medallion. "She told me that, if something were to happen to either our child or herself, this amulet would pulse once, signaling a death, and twice, heaven forbid, they both died… well, about 16 years ago, the amulet pulsed once, as I'm sure you know, signaling her death – however, I was unaware of who it was who had passed…

"Your mother had also told me who her secret keeper was going to be… Wormtail… or, better known as Peter Pettigrew. Well, apparently Wormtail, a 'faithful' servant of the Dark Lord, told Voldemort where they were – which proved to be useful. You see, Voldemort cast a spell little known spell, called the Insieme curse, which would enable two people to die at once… you've heard of the prophecy, correct?" Snape asked, receiving a quick nod from Harry. "Well, so had Voldemort – or so he thought. He decided to 'kill to birds with one stone,' so to speak. The night that Wormtail told Voldemort where your mother was hiding, Voldemort set out to kill a small boy named Neville Longbottom and his parents, which ended up in the death of your mother.

"Although he succeeded in Neville's death, he failed to destroy our son. With our son's failed death, Voldemort had become weak – but still managed to live for another decade and a half – until Dumbledore's son killed him – for the time being.

"Harry, you must see where this is going…" Snape said, staring intently into Harry's fierce, green eyes. "Harry, your real name is Harry Snape – you are my son. I have been looking for either you or your mother for the past 16 years, ever since James Potter decided to risk his life to save yours. Your mother had given me one last piece of information before she had left, to America, it would seem. She had told me that, if she was unable to see me again beforehand, the amulet would pulse once more, on the night marking the week before your 17th birthday – and I would know how to find you. The only downside that has come from this, aside from you not knowing that I even existed, is the fact that Voldemort isn't in fact dead, because you are still alive…" Snape trailed off again, suddenly unsure what to say.

Harry was struck dumb… everything Snape said was… surreal. He had a father… a living father… a father who cared so much for him, that he had spent 16 years looking for him…everything that Harry had been told seemed to make sense… suddenly something clicked.

"You mean… if you're my… father… I can stay with you? I can leave the Dursley's?" Harry asked, daring to do what he had learned to avoid… hope.

Snape's face broke into a smile again. "Harry, even if I wasn't your father, I would never let you go back there again."

Those words settled it for Harry. Every word Snape had said was true – he was his father. It was Harry's turn to smile, as he jumped forward to give a hug to Snape.

To give a hug to his father.

* * *

**(A/N)**: YEAH! Another chapter! Now, be honest – how many of you thought that I was going to have Snape have Harry with James? Well – I hope that you liked it! I'm really sorry for all of the confusion over the Albus Dumbledore(s) – I knew that it would create some problems, but I thought that if I updated quickly, then it would be okay. Well – as always, let me know what you think!

**seamermaiden** – yeah, sorry – I hope that it makes sense now!

**twitchyfingers** – thanks!

**DaughterofDeath** – ummm… okay – I'm glad that you are looking forward to another chapter – but do you think that you could maybe rephrase it a bit next time? That's really all that I ask…

**Letifer** – thanks! Yeah – grammar isn't my strong point! ;)

**I-Shave-Clowns** – LOL – your review made me crack up – I love geeks with glasses too:D

**OneWhoSitsWithTheTurtles** – thanks! I'm really glad that you like it! I'm also really glad that you noticed that I was trying to keep it similar to the story. If you see anything that I messed up on, please let me know!

**nightwing** – thanks!

**KniGhtInwAitiNg** – yeah, all questions will be answered soon enough!

**me:chan** – thanks, I'm glad that you like it!


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